


I've been aiming for the stars

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [13]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Late Night Conversations, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: He turns and sees David, sitting on the rickety bench on the porch with the knitted blanket that usually sits over the back of the couch wrapped around his shoulders, staring out into the backyard.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 55
Kudos: 308





	I've been aiming for the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maxbegone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxbegone/gifts).



> Ally, thank you so much for leaving me such a gorgeous Tumblr prompt! [ Soft summer prompts #3: Sitting on the porch at night](https://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/post/623114758741196801/soft-summer-prompts).
> 
> Thanks to houdini74 for coming in clutch when I said "help I need a sports thing that Patrick believes fiercely" <3
> 
> For the record, I tried very hard to keep this short enough for Tumblr, I really did.
> 
> Title is from Matt Nathanson.

There are a few things Patrick knows with one hundred per cent certainty. Ray will never understand the concept of knocking and  _ waiting  _ before opening a closed door, no matter how many times Patrick tries to explain it to him. This will be the year the Leafs take out the Stanley Cup. David Rose is not a morning person.

In all the months they’ve been together, Patrick has never woken up after David. Which is why, when he stirs and reaches out only to find the other side of the bed empty, it’s a surprise; it’s even more of a surprise when he opens his eyes and realises it’s still dark outside.  _ 4:36, _ his phone tells him when he reaches for it, and Patrick frowns as he pushes down the jolt of panic he knows is unwarranted.

He used to worry, sometimes, that David would disappear from his life as suddenly as he appeared in it, knocking Patrick’s entire world off its axis for a second time; that he’d abscond back to New York, maybe, go and find someone artsier and more experienced. He'd finally let go of that fear when they reconciled after Rachel came to town and had actually talked about their pasts, and Patrick had finally understood in a way he hadn’t before just how deeply miserable David was before he arrived in Schitt’s Creek — something even he hadn’t known at the time. 

Patrick had been able to relate.

_ 4:43. _ His vague thought that maybe David had just gone to the bathroom seems unlikely and Patrick pulls back the covers, slipping his feet into the slippers David likes to make fun of before stepping out into the hallway. The bathroom door is open so Patrick makes his way down the stairs, keeping close to the railing so he doesn’t risk waking Ray.

There’s no sign of David in the living room or the kitchen, and Patrick is just about to head back upstairs to get his phone when he notices the back door is slightly ajar. He pulls it open and steps out, sucking in a breath as the chill of the night air hits him — spring hasn’t quite tumbled into summer yet, and the night still has a bite to it. He turns and sees David, sitting on the rickety bench on the porch with the knitted blanket that usually sits over the back of the couch wrapped around his shoulders, staring out into the backyard.

“Hey,” he says softly, and David startles as his head whips around.

“Shit, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Patrick sits down next to him. “I don’t think so. I just woke up and you weren’t there.” He can feel the goosebumps rising up on his arms and wishes he’d thought to pull a sweater on; before he can say anything David is unhooking the blanket from around his shoulders, spreading it over both of them so it covers their arms and torsos. Then David burrows in, his head resting on Patrick’s shoulder as he exhales loudly, Patrick’s arm wrapping around his back, fingers splayed on his waist.

“I couldn’t sleep,” David says quietly. “And I didn’t want to wake you up with my tossing and turning, so I came out here.” He’s silent for a long moment. “It’s nice here, in the dark. Peaceful.”

Patrick bites his lip. “I can go back to bed, if you—”

“No,” David blurts out, gripping his knee even though Patrick didn’t make any effort to actually move. “No, I— it’s better when you’re with me.”

Patrick presses his lips into David’s hair to hide the grin spreading over his face. “Okay, David.” He hesitates before adding, “I love you.” That’s a thing he’s allowed to say now, after weeks of thinking it and, if he’s honest with himself, months of feeling it. The way they’re sitting, with David half-draped over him, he can feel the way David relaxes into the words, and it makes him smile even harder, glad David can’t see his face.

“Love you, too,” David mumbles back. The words come a lot harder for David, Patrick knows. He hasn’t said them unprompted, yet, but that’s okay; Patrick knows he means them, feels them, and that’s more than enough.

They sit like that for a long time, comfortably silent. It’s not until there’s a shift in the sky — not so much getting light as it is becoming less dark — that David speaks.

“I never really saw the stars before I moved here,” he says in a hushed voice. “Not properly, not like this.” 

Patrick lets his head tip back. It’s a clear night, with no clouds to hide the constellations from them, and there are a few that he recognises immediately. Not for the first time, he thinks about how different his childhood was from David’s; camping trips were a regular thing for the Brewers growing up, and he can remember his dad pointing out the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, Pegasus, all the others, over and over until Patrick could find them without assistance. 

But remembering that makes Patrick think about the conversation he hasn’t worked up the courage to have with his parents yet, so he shoves those memories down. 

“It’s beautiful,” is what he says instead, and David hums. 

There’s another long silence before Patrick asks carefully, “Any reason you couldn’t sleep?”

He feels rather than sees David shrug against him. “I don’t think so,” he says. “I just get like this sometimes. Like I can’t shut off my brain.”

Patrick nods. “Well, maybe seeing the sun come up will turn you into a morning person like me,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. 

David huffs; Patrick can feel the puff of breath ghosting along his chest. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Oh, I wasn’t,” Patrick says with a laugh, and it’s true. There’s nothing more exhilarating than a good dawn hike, but he’s accepted that he’ll never get David to join him on one. He’ll most likely never convince him to hike at all, but he doesn’t mind. He wouldn’t change David for anything.

“Besides,” David says, “I’ve seen the sun come up plenty. Just… never like this.”

“On a porch in rural Ontario with your boyfriend?” Patrick asks, his tone light and teasing. 

“Mm,” David says. “Not quite what I was going to say, but I think I prefer yours.” He brings one of his hands up, spreading it over Patrick’s chest as he turns, pressing his lips to Patrick’s collarbone and kissing him softly. Patrick responds immediately, tilting his head to give better access as he brings one hand up to cover David’s while the other, the one still wrapped around his shoulders, tugs him closer. David’s lips slide higher, up his neck to the base of his ear before he slips his hand out from under Patrick’s, bringing it to his jaw and turning his head so they’re facing each other. David’s eyes are dark and soft and Patrick just looks at him for a long moment, skin humming where David is touching him, heat coiling low and unhurried in his stomach. He brings the hand that isn’t already touching him to the back of David’s neck, his eyes zeroing in on David’s slightly parted lips as he leans in slowly, savouring the moment.

“Oh, are we having a sunrise party?” Ray’s voice booms from the doorway. He can see the frustration flicker over David’s face and he schools his own features before he turns, dropping the hand that’s around David’s neck but keeping the other slung around his shoulders, holding him close. 

“We couldn’t sleep, so we were enjoying the peace and quiet,” he says, pointedly but knowing it’s fruitless. Ray has many wonderful qualities and is a fantastic roommate, but he wouldn’t know a boundary if Patrick slapped him with one.

“I’ll make cocoa,” Ray declares, continuing to be oblivious to the moment he’s interrupted. “There’s nothing better for a cool dawn morning that a nice mug of cocoa, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No thanks, Ray,” Patrick demurs just as David says “Oh, cocoa sounds lovely.” He turns to David in confusion, eyebrows raised as Ray disappears back into the house.

David just shrugs, a small smile on his face. “I mean, he’s right,” he says. “It’s cold. Cocoa would be nice.” And Patrick can’t argue with him, really, because now that he’s thinking about it… 

They rearrange themselves while they wait for Ray to come back, sitting up with their bodies pressed together shoulder to knee, the blanket spread across their legs. When Patrick shivers David slips his arms around Patrick’s shoulder, a reversal of their earlier position but much warmer where David’s sweater wraps around him. 

By the time Ray returns, three mugs balanced precariously in his hands, dawn is just starting to break. Surprisingly Ray doesn’t try to sit next to them on the bench, handing them each a mug before sitting in the armchair on the other side of the door. The three of them sit in silence, sipping on their drinks as they watch the sun slowly peek its way over the horizon. 

David leans in close. “I love you,” he whispers, barely audible despite his lips being pressed right up to Patrick’s ear. Patrick doesn’t even try to contain the grin spreading across his face, turning so their noses are bumping together.

“What was that?” he asks quietly, and David rolls his eyes, lips twisting to try and hide his smile.

“Maybe I was talking to the cocoa,” he says, and Patrick smirks. 

“Oh,” he says softly. “Well, in that case—” he brings his voice back to a normal volume. “Ray, David was just saying how much he _loves_ your cocoa.”

“Oh, thank you, David!” Ray says with delight, unable to see the way David’s eyes widen in horror as Patrick’s head is between them. “It’s actually my mother’s secret recipe, she always used to make it when we were sick—”

“I love you too, David,” he murmurs while Ray chatters on, settling in with a smile to watch the sunrise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/).


End file.
